Eve could smell the difference if nothing else, Flynn's midnight research binge evident in the lingering infusion of dust and old books that beat out the smells of food, flowers, and fresh air from four extra people working in the Annex. After she hustled the exhausted LITs off to their duties, she sidled over to his desk, feeling like a teenager as she picked up the abandoned jacket and pressed it to her face, breathing deeply. Crushed greenery, wet earth, musty books, leather, but no blood. No blood. She tucked away the carnation to dry, and hung up the jacket.
Word Count: 100
Notes: I firmly headcanon Eve as ninja collecting all of Flynn's flowers and drying them from the stairwell. This is half of the source of the floral scent in the Annex. The other half is Cassandra recruiting everyone into deodorizing strong scents to prevent headaches. The fresh air smell comes from Jones and Jenkins' ongoing war over whether to leave the front door open or closed.